


Wartime #2: A Better Night

by Jonjo



Series: Wartime [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - War, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Resurrection, Werewolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonjo/pseuds/Jonjo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That night in the war torn lives of Stiles and Derek</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wartime #2: A Better Night

**Author's Note:**

> Please read ‘Wartime #1 A Bad Day’ first, it’ll make more sense (hopefully)  
> Written for the fullmoon_ficlet weekly challenge #7 Prompt: Fire
> 
> Not mine except for the mistakes (unbetaed).

 

The market square was still and fully dark when Stiles came to with hands on his body. A small boy was trying to get into his pockets, scavenging for money or jewellery. When Stiles moved and opened his eyes, the boy screamed and ran, shocking the stranger back to life.

The two men sat up and stared at each other for some time before Stiles broke the silence.

 “Can’t stay here. Come on.”

He collected his ragged coat and put it on resuming his usual stance bent over his staff. He mused on the advantages of grunginess for maintaining ownership of one’s possessions as he hobbled away beckoning the stranger to follow.

 

After about five minutes, Stiles leaned on an old fence and pushed it clear of a trap door in the ground. He opened the trap and disappeared down into the hole.

Derek followed gingerly, not sure what he would find below. The dugout room he entered was dimly lit but clean and neat, with a table and chairs in front of him and a fireplace at the other end.

Stiles knelt on the hearth coaxing the embers of the fire back into life and adding new fuel. Once it was burning well he filled a kettle and plugged it in to boil. “We still have the luxury of electricity for a few hours each night”, he explained as he turned to his guest inviting him to sit.

Joining him at the table Stiles held out his hand and introduced himself.

“Derek”, the stranger replied shaking his hand.

“I know how I’m still alive but I have to ask, how come you are?”

“Normal bullets can’t kill me,” he answered, adding somewhat uncomfortably, “I heal quickly.”

 

Accepting the answer without comment, Stiles made tea and hung a pot over the fire to reheat some stew.

“Scared that kid half to death”, Stiles laughed, “Though, I wish it had been that commander, smug bastard.”

“His name’s Argent and he’s a murderous bastard. How often do they come and clean you out?” Derek asked.

“That lot? Every couple of months, but there are at least two other crews in the area who raid us too. They leave the town relatively neutral usually, so the aid trucks will come in and leave supplies. Not sure what upset them today. ”

 “That’d be me”, Derek admitted and scowled.

“Why’s that?” Stiles asked but Derek remained silent.

Stiles stayed quiet as well until after they’d finished eating, but he rarely had an audience and couldn’t resist the opportunity to moan about the day’s events.

 

The temperature dropped as it got later and Stiles dragged a mattress out from the corner and laid it in front of the fire, wrapping himself in a blanket and handing one to Derek. They settled down together to enjoy the warmth and gazed into the fire.

“Was Argent expecting you today?” Stiles asked, unable to ignore his curiosity about the stranger any longer.

Derek sighed but replied with the slightest of smirks, “I doubt it, he thought he’d killed me a month ago.”

“What?! You make a habit of dying?”

“I try not and I don’t actually die. What about you?” Derek asked.

 “Well we’re a right pair, aren’t we?” Stiles laughed, “A witch and a werewolf in wartime, fuck what are the chances!”

Derek stared at him, shocked and practically growled out “How did you know?”

“A lucky guess, I suppose”, he answered, unperturbed by Derek’s defensiveness. “I was pretty sure you weren’t a cat but you could have been a squirrel, I suppose.”

“Squirrel!” Derek squeaked and Stiles dissolved into giggles.


End file.
